long years of
prose and difficulty to the day when they, too, stood upon the glad
threshold of life.

Later on Jean disappeared to died her bridal trappings, and came down
half an hour later in hat and coat, to run the blockade of the assembled
guests in the hall, _en route_ to the carriage at the door. Her cheeks
were pink, her eyes were shining; as each hand was stretched out she
pressed it warmly in her own; to each good wish she returned a gracious
acknowledgment; when a face was held forward expectantly she was ready
with a kiss and a caress. Every one praised her graciousness, her
affectionate remembrance of old friends. "She kissed me _so_ lovingly."
"She said goodbye to me _so_ sweetly." A buzz of appreciation followed
her as she went; but in reality Jean had walked in a dream, seeing an
indistinct blur of faces, hearing a meaningless babble of words,
conscious only of Robert's figure waiting for her at the door.

Mr Goring had escaped from the crowd and bustle to stand bare-headed on
the pavement, whence he could catch a last glimpse of his daughter as
she drove away from the house which had been her home. His face looked
pinched and worn in the keen autumn air; he smiled and joked with the
men by his side, but his eyes were restless, and kept turning back to
the door through which Jean would pass for the last time as a daughter
of the house. Another moment and she was there; the crowd surged after
her on to the pavement. He stood before her, and held out his hand.
She held up her cheek, smiled, and leapt lightly into the carriage, the
door of which Robert was holding open. He sprang to his seat, there was
a vision of two heads bent forward, of two radiant, illumined faces; the
coachman flicked up his horses--they had passed out of sight.

Mr Goring shivered, and turned back to the house.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The happiest moment of my wedding day?" answered Jean to a question put
to her some months later. "The happiest moment of all was when the
carriage drove off from the door, and left you all behind!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

CONTRASTED FATES.

While Jean was blissfully enjoying the first weeks of her married life,
the friend who had been to her as a second mother was lying dangerously
ill in her upper room. The bustle of the last few months, culminating
in the excitement of the wedding, had proved too much for Miggles's weak
heart; and h